Disclaimer: I own nothing of this, it all began in and belongs to the incredible mind of J.K. Rowling.
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The Potter Curse
"James, come down for dinner!" Harry Potter knocked on his son's bedroom door.
"Sure, one sec, dad!"
Harry let out an aggravated sigh.
It was the first day of Christmas break and they were having a small party. Ginny's brothers were at the house, along with their spouses and kids, who were currently sitting at the long dinning room table, waiting to eat.
Ginny had made dinner but refused to serve it until everyone was present.
Harry didn't know how long anyone could stop hungry Weasley's from eating. If James- the only one missing from the group- didn't come down soon, Harry was sure all hell would break loose.
"What are you doing in there?" Harry asked as he tried to open the door.
The second James had gotten back from school, he had gone straight to his room and hadn't come out since.
Harry jostled the doorknob in vain. Feeling foolish, he pulled out his wand and silently charmed the door open.
Inside the room was a mess.
"James?" Harry called out, looking for his son among piles of yarn, wood shavings, and books.
"Over here." James called from his seat in a corner of the room.
"What happened in here?" asked Harry, motioning to the mess of stuff that engulfed his son's rather large room.
James' face turned a slight shade of pink.
"It's hopeless, dad!" he cried.
"What's hopeless?"
"Her."
"Who?"
James handed his father a picture he was holding.
The picture wasn't focused, and looked as if the camera had been moved while it was being taken.
Harry had to squint slightly to get a good hold of the image.
It was largely a picture of a palm, which Harry guessed had been trying to divert the camera.
Behind the palm was the face of a pretty girl, who looked quite annoyed.
"Whose she?" Harry asked.
"Belle, but everybody called her Lily, 'cause their her favorite flowers." James said, and got a sort of dreamy look in his eyes.
"What's she got to do with anything?" asked Harry, thickly, still preoccupied with getting dinner started.
"Well," James said, embarrassed, "I'm sort of-" he paused, "I'm-in-love-with-her." he finished quickly.
Harry, seeing the irony of it thought, "Somewhere Dad's laughing."
Harry smiled knowingly and sat down beside James.
"Does she have red hair?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?" James said, impressed, then got a dreamy look on his face again.
"Well, that's that then." Harry said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"What's what?" asked James.
"Your gonna marry her."
His son was shocked for a moment, but soon got over it; it was not the first time he had considered marrying Lily. James' face turned from satisfied and happy, to upset quickly when he realized "But dad, she won't give me the time of day."
"She'll come around, just keep using those Potter charms."
James laughed.
"So what's all this?" Harry said, motioning again to the mess.
"Well, I was trying to find her the perfect Christmas present for her."
"Right, well, how 'bout something simple, but sweet."
"Like?"
"Lilies?" suggested Harry.
His son's face lite up.
"Why didn't I think of that?" he muttered as he ran off to his mother's magical garden.
Harry chuckled.
Just as he reached the door, James looked back to his dad and asked, "How'd you know she had red hair, dad?"
"It's the Potter curse." He replied, an answer which seemed to satisfy James.
And Harry was right. Years later, for no less than a second time, James Potter married the redheaded Lily.
This story is dedicated to all the red heads who have kept the Potter boys in check over the generations.
